Conscience in Thought

Awake, again.  Something she wished with all of her being that she would never have to be again.  Being awakened to a life that she neither asked for nor wished to continue; a curse that has been thrust upon her for attempting to give the gift of peace to a life with no direction.  Though, in return for her gift she lies here, still, awake.

As she lie awake, numb to the thought and knowing what the day has to bring, she listened to the sound of her other, her misbegotten master, as he breathes life into the death she so longer for.

"Erin, listen!  I know our relationship has gotten a bit... stale recently, but that doesn't mean we have to give up so quickly!  Just give us some time and we can... Hello?  Hello?!  Guess not."

"You know it was the right thing to do," spoke a quiet, soothing, voice.  He felt her slender warm arms wrap around his waist and her head fall gently onto his back;  her soft brown curls covering his shoulders like a warm, fleece blanket.

"Yeah." The only response he could bring himself to mutter.  "I'm just so tired of this ridiculous cycle!  Everytime I try to do right, to do good, to do what I need to do, I end up here.  Alone."

"Alone," she thought.  How she longed to be alone from this existence.

The cycle that he spoke of began long ago.  One cycle of his life that he could never completely break free from.  The cycle of love.

There is no count to say as to when this began, just that somewhere in life he never fully acquired the confidence required to make himself whole with another.  He walked through life successful and free of most burdens.  To most he seemed quite happy!  Wearing a mask of peace and love, having eyes that saw love in all its grandeur, but always seeming to fall outside its gaze.  Always the friend, though at best a part-time lover.  Forever the maker never finding his match.  This cycle begun in his adolescence now continuing to adulthood.

Thoughts to himself never making their way free of his throats strangling grasp; he would never dare dream of burdening another soul with such a silly problem.  "I'm a man," he would say to himself, "Finding a woman is bad enough without everyone thinking I'm gay!"

As the days continued, the cycle flowed in its natural order, until the day she came into his life.

This figure!

Beauty so stunning that her light was barely out shone by the sun; eyes so radiant and smile so inviting.  In the face of someone so incredible he the only thing that he could so...  Flash an uneasy smile and walk from her sight.

Stop!


And he did.

Unknowing of where the voice came from, and feeling very uneasy of the odd feeling that was coursing through him, he began walking his course again when he heard in a distant part of his mind, "Why must you continue to move away from me?"  


"Where are you,"  he spoke with a quivering low voice, "How can I hear you but not see you?"

As the last word slipped cautiously from his tongue, he felt a gentle touch at the small of his back.  He turned, sharply, towards the source of this new found warmth, shocked but somehow relaxed at the sight that stood before him.

"You," he spoke slowly.  "I've seen you before."

"Yes," spoke the lovely figure that stood before him, speaking her peaceful words directly to his mind while her lips remained still, locked in a smile that show nothing less than tranquility.

At her tallest she stood no further than his shoulders, eyes falling near directly to his chest.  A slim figure, yet of womanly shape, the air about her engulfed any light that came near her like a black hole of serenity, while her hair, blowing so softly, could have been mistaken for the very wind itself.  Never, such a sight, did his eyes ever think existed but in his most solemn thoughts.

"And from those thoughts I am given life," he heard just as easily as if the voice were his own.

"Who are you?  Where did you come from?  How can I hear you in my..."

"You hear me because I am from you.  From the thoughts that have passed in your mind to the actions that have shaped your life, I have been there as your unseen guide; your conscience.  I remained unseen to you because you need not know my face; nothing of your life needed more that an invisible touch until now.  I know of your plight; your want for the love of another.  I also know that your refuse to follow the simple directions of life in this matter, instead choosing to cut roughly across the grain."


"But how," he began.

"How can I be here, you ask?  Easily.  Think to yourself.  How many other times has thought manifested itself to you in life?  How many times have you wanted, then thought, then received?  Is this any different?  Save for the fact that you now face that which you thought only existed in thought."


He began to think to himself of doubt, but quickly washed it away.  Something in her words seemed to feel true, though the likelihood of this new reality, that his conscience had taken form as his inner-want, was too much for him to accept.

But,  he did accept this.  Wholly within his being he accepted he into his life.  At first as his mentor, guiding his fledgling heart towards a narrow cliff that it might one day take flight on its own.  Now, unbeknownst to her, her role as guide has given way to a life of servitude.  Forced to follow behind in his shadow, ignored just as such but attached exactly as close.

When she would say stop, he would go, unimpeded.  When she would point to a likely match for him to pair with, he would yield to nothing, stopping himself from ever attempting a connection for the most lacking of reasons.

And now she lay here, anointed as his other by the tears that birthed her, bound to a body that refused to understand her thought.  In their time together he has grown comfortable while she has shrunk to be more of a passing idea that a conscious thought.  Her form growing stronger in feel and touch with every action he takes against her word.  So much so that she no longer communicated directly to his mind.

"You must stop this, Matthew.  You must let go of yourself."

Her words caught him off guard in a way not like before.  He turned to face her, not prepared for the sight that would be forever etched in his memory.

"All that is within you has made me:  your doubts, your worries, your hopes, and your fears.  I am nothing more that you and nothing less than hope given life.  But, mine is a life that should have ended long ago.  You must let me go in order to take yourself back!  These words that I speak are yours from within.  The direction I give is yours that you know to follow.  All that I give you was take from you!  I was meant only to show you the life that lies behind thought.  You found this form, me, because you chose me.  Within that moment you were to realize that all you wanted could be yours should you take the steps of a man and seek it.  Instead, you have become complacent, choosing to use this figment of happiness as an excuse as opposed to becoming more of yourself.

So, now you must choose again.  Release me and let go of yourself or hold on to this glimmer and never see loves true light."

Again, as before, the moment seemed too real for thought.  A wave crashed upon him with the vengeance of a tide on a new shore, washing away all footprints, leaving soft sands free to be made into their own path.

As she spoke, he accepted her words, and as his tears feel, she disappeared; her soft figure returning to nothing; her hair, now just a breeze; his heart growing stronger.